


Mr. Brightside (Suspended)

by quagsirechannel



Category: Rooster Teeth Productions RPF
Genre: Cheating, Frottage, Hickeys, Implied Anal Sex, Kissing, M/M, One-Sided Relationship, Secret Relationship, Sexual Themes, Snowballing, blowjob, handjob
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-16
Updated: 2013-02-18
Packaged: 2017-11-29 11:30:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/686472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quagsirechannel/pseuds/quagsirechannel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It started out with a kiss.  A kiss you didn’t mean to give him, a kiss that he gave back to you.  THIS IS NO LONGER BEING UPDATED.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Sun

**Author's Note:**

> THIS FIC IS NO LONGER BEING UPDATED! Sorry about that folks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to write something based off the song Mr. Brightside by The Killers because fucking EVERYONE writes something based off that song. It was supposed to be a one shot thing but the more I got into the more I was like “there is too much I wanna do with this for one chapter” so yeah it’s not a chapter story. I have no idea how often I’m gonna update but it probably won’t be more than like once a week because I’m a dumb college kid so yeah sorry if I’m slow and I hope you enjoy it.

It started out with a kiss. A kiss you didn’t mean to give him, a kiss that he gave back to you. Then it turned into nervous hands touching everything they could, soft noises ringing in each other’s ears, desperate pleas of “dont stop” followed by each other’s names. Everything moved so fast but in slow motion, only minutes went by but it felt like hours. You thought maybe you’d have that moment forever, that it would last until the end of the world.

You knew in your heart that it couldn’t stay like this, though. No matter how it turned out, someone would have to get hurt. He’s laying next to you, tucked into your arms, your eyes starting to close as you drift off. This time, you think, maybe he’ll stay. Maybe you’ll get to hold him through the night and you’ll wake up tomorrow and make breakfast and tell him everything you’ve wanted to tell him since that first kiss six months ago.

He doesn’t stay, though.

“Michael,” you mutter sleepily. You prop yourself up on your elbows, twisting to watch him sit on the edge of the bed and pull his clothes on, to cover up all the marks you’ve left on him. ”Michael, stay.”

“I can’t stay, Gavin, you know that.” He tugs his shirt on over his head, back towards you even as he stands up to fasten his pants.

“But you can stay. You always say you can’t, but there’s nothing stopping you.”

“I’m getting married,” he bites back at you, stilling with his phone in his hand. You pray to God that he doesn’t press the buttons.

“Do you even love her anymore?”

He spins around to look at you, eyes piercing through you, readable even in the dark. They’re not angry, but rather sad, and scared. They give you your answer, because he can’t.

“I’m getting married,” he repeats, and he dials her number, walking towards the door with a limp that’s a cruel reminder of where you’ve been with him.

You don’t follow him out, but you can ear him as he goes down the hallway.

“Hey, Lindsay? Yeah, we’re all done over here, sorry it’s a little later than usual. You mind coming to pick me up? Cool, thanks, seeya soon.”

You laugh to yourself when he hangs up the phone. He can’t even say it to her anymore, up until now he’s been able to lie to her, but now he can’t even make himself say three little words. Shaking your head, you roll out of bed, tugging on a pair of briefs and going to the window.

You don’t want to watch him sit there on the curb for 10 minutes, you don’t watch to watch him light a cigarette and inhale deeply, but you do anyway because you can’t take your eyes off him even for a second. It hurts to watch him leave, but it hurts even worse to look away.

Lindsay pulls up and steps out of the car, helping Michael up and plucking the cigarette from his hand to take a drag from it. They hug, she kisses him on the cheek, and he gets into the drivers side so they can pull away down the street.

Once the car is out of sight, you fall back into bed, throwing your arm over your eyes and trying not to think about the pain in your chest until you manage to get to sleep.

***

You wake up the next morning, groggy and sore from last night, not wanting to get out of bed and go to work just to be miserable. Still, you manage to roll out form under the covers, landing on your feet and getting dressed for the day. When you stumble into the kitchen, Geoff is there with breakfast made, giving you the look.

“Yeah, I know, walk of shame, you can save it today, thanks.” You roll your eyes, sitting down at the table and looking at everything but him. You can feel him judging you, you don’t have to see it too.

“I wasn’t gonna say anything. Except for, y’know, the usual. That this isn’t gonna end well, that the longer you keep this going the more fucked up for everyone it’s gonna get.”

Geoff passes you a plate of eggs, prompting you to actually look at him. He’s mad, of course, but he’s also worried. Other than Michael, he’s your best friend here in the states, and you know he just doesn’t want to see you get hurt.

“It’s not like I like it going on like this, alright? I don’t get off on being a dirty little secret, I just can’t…fucking stay away from him. I need him.”

Geoff’s expression goes soft.

“I know, buddy,” he says, coming around the table to pat you on the shoulder. ”You want some coffee?”

“Yeah, thanks.” You sigh, taking a travel mug filled with hot coffee as he hands it to you, and you take a long sip. ”Work’s gonna be bloody miserable today. I don’t know how I’m gonna be able to look at him.”

Geoff smiles at you. ”Just put on a happy face, man. You’re the sun, after all.”

“Yeah, Mr. fucking Brightside, eh?”

You both laugh at that bitterly, then leave the house to head to the office.


	2. Slow Burn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't really have any ideas for this chapter (it's only the second one and I'm already stumped why did I do this) so I kinda just wrote whatever came to mind, hopefully it all works out. Sorry it turned out so long though, 1100 words more than the first chapter holy shit.
> 
> Also I'm sorry for making everyone a smoker in this but as a smoker myself cigarettes mean a lot to me. If you're interested, for the purposes of this story Geoff smokes Pal Mal Reds and Michael smokes Marlboro Smooths (which is my cigarette of choice).

The drive to work feels quiet. Geoff puts on a CD, but you barely hear it, tuning it out and staring out the window instead. Every few minutes or so, he tries to ask you a question and make some small talk, but you only give him one word answers, a "yeah" here and a "hmm" there. Your mind is way too occupied to answer him properly.

You get to the office and make your way upstairs, Geoff finding his wife already there and giving her a kiss.

"Hey babe, how was the drive in?"

"Mm, it was alright. Would have been better if you came with me, though."

"I know. Me and Gav had some stuff to take care of, though."

You watch them converse, smiling at each other, Geoff tucking a piece of Griffon's hair behind her ear, Griffon taking her husband's hand in her own and winding their fingers together. You want that. You want that with Michael, you want to be able to hold his hand and hug him and kiss him in public and have the whole office make fun of you for being sappy.

He already has that, though, and you have to be quiet and take watching him do all the things he should be doing with you.

You have about ten minutes of peace before they show up, where you can get some work done, try to distract or prepare yourself for the inevitable. Once they enter the office, though, a sharp pain cuts through your chest and you have to instantly stop what you're doing. You get up from your seat, leaving for the bathroom, but Lindsay stops you.

"Hey Gavin," she says, not looking at you right away, then flashing you a manufactured smile to which you nod in return. Michael stiffens when she says your name, but doesn't acknowledge you, instead calling to Ray and grabbing his attention.

She knows.

You've suspected she's known for a while, but this is the first time she's ever let on about it. From the way Michael reacted just now, she must have confronted him about it, and your gut drops when you realize that he must be ignoring you to make her happy.

To make matters even worse, Lindsay speaks up again, this time to the whole office.

"Guys, me and Michael have an important announcement. Is everyone already here?" She looks around, counting the people in the room, and takes Michael's hand to pull him back over to her. When he's by her side again, he puts his arm around her waist, fingers rapping against her side nervously.

"Okay, everyone listen. Michael and I were talking last night, and..." She trails off, and a million different thoughts flood through your head. Please let them have broken up. Please don't let her be pregnant. Please don't let your heart break into a million pieces in the middle of the office.

"We finally set a date for the wedding!"

You think you're going to be sick.

You fall right back down in your seat, body going numb. The office bursts into chatter, everyone laughing and congratulating them, some people applauding. Everyone except for Geoff, whose eyes you can feel burning into your skin. You don't bother looking back at him, though. You don't bother looking at anything, really, opting to stare off into space and let your ears shut off. You don't want to exist right now.

Eventually, Geoff comes over to you, placing a hand on your shoulder and leaning to whisper into your ear.

"You wanna get some air?"

"Yeah," you say in a small voice, suddenly realizing just how hard it is to breathe in here.

As you walk to the exit with Geoff, you hear Ray pipe up behind you, asking where you're going. You turn around, and Michael does at the same time, eyes locking with yours. There was a smile on his face, and you watch it fade, watch his eyes go sad and apologetic, like he wants to say something to you. Whatever it is, you don't want to hear it, and you turn back to the door and walk outside.

***

Geoff sits down on the curb, and you copy him, hanging your head down while he lights a cigarette. He smokes a cheap brand, one that's different from Michael's, but the tobacco still smells the same.

"Pass me a fag too, eh?"

Geoff raises an eyebrow at you. "Thought you quit."

"Yeah I did, now I'm starting again."

"Shit's no good for you, man," he says with a laugh, but he hands you one anyway along with his lighter. You put the cigarette between your lips, lighting it and inhaling deep. The taste is bitter and the smoke burns your throat and lungs, and because you're not used to it anymore you almost cough, but it quickly dulls to a slow tingle that runs through your veins, calming you down.

The two of you sit in silence, taking turns puffing your cigarettes and sighing, him giving you the courtesy of not asking question you can't answer. Your mind is silent, too, for the first time today, focusing only on the light buzz the smoke is giving you.

The door opens behind you, you twist around to see who's come out, instantly regretting that decision when you see Michael standing there.

"Can I talk to him alone for a minute?" he asks Geoff, who turns around and shields his eyes from the sun.

"I don't think now is really a good time.

Michael huffs and shoves his hands in his pocket. "There's never gonna be a good time, dude."

"It's alright, Geoff," you say, nodding at him to go back inside. He flicks his cigarette into the parking lot, then gets up and heads towards the building, giving Michael a look as he passes by. You know that look, it's a look filled with fatherly disapproval, the same one that he gives you Lads when one of you screws up. Michael seems to know what it means, too, because he hunches his shoulder and looks down at his shoes.

When Geoff is gone, you turn back around, taking a long drag from your cigarette and holding it in. Michael sits down next to you, close enough of that your knees brush, and it makes your heart ache.

"I thought you quit smoking?" You decide not to justify that with an answer, instead rolling your eyes and laughing bitterly.

"What do you want, Michael?"

He doesn't say anything at first, so you shoot him a glare.

"Lindsay told me to come out here and ask you to be the best man at our wedding."

Your jaw drops.

"And you actually had the fucking audacity to do it?"

"You can say no," he says meekly.

"You're damn right I'm gonna say no!" He flinches, eyes squeezing shut, but you don't let it stop you from letting him have it. "You really think I'm gonna stand there on your wedding day and watch you marry someone else? I'm just supposed to stand there and take it while tell Lindsay you love her, give her a little kiss and let you slip through my fingers when it should be me standing up there with you?"

He falls silent again, twiddling his thumbs and staring at the asphalt of the parking lot. You flick your cigarette away, then rest your elbows on your knees and hold your head in your hands. When he finally says something, you don't bother to look at him.

"I don't wanna keep hurting you like this. I don't wanna hurt her either."

You scoff. "You knew getting into this that someone was gonna get hurt."

"Yeah, I know that, Gavin! I just don't know what to fucking do right now, okay?!" His voice wavers and cracks, and when you look at him, he's holding back tears.

"She found out, you know. Last night. We were gonna...and she saw the marks you left. I told you not to leave any fucking marks."

"Sorry if I want at least a little evidence of what we have together. I'm not keen on just compliantly fucking you and acting like it never happened."

He sighs heavily, running his palms over his jeans. "Yeah, well, she saw them, and now she fucking knows. I didn't tell her that it was you, but she figured it out. She said she doesn't care how long it's been going on and that she didn't wanna break up, and that's why we set the wedding date. To kinda like, force me to choose between the two of you."

"So that's it then? You picked her? It's over?"

"No!" he shouts at you, and he springs up to his feet, fists clenched at his sides. "No, I don't want it to be over between us, I don't wanna have to pick, I don't wanna hurt anyone!"

You stand up too, facing him and crossing your arms over your chest.

"You're being a brat, Michael. You can't have both of us, no matter how much of a fucking fit you throw about it. She won't let it happen, and neither will I."

He sniffs, trying to choke back his crying. His jaw is clenched with the effort, but only a second passes before tears start running down his cheeks. His perfect, rosy, freckled cheeks that you want to pepper kisses across and stop him from crying. You're mad and hurt, but Michael is hurting, too, he's confused and scared and you just want to hold him.

So you do.

"Michael," you say softly, stepping towards him and taking him in your arms. "Michael, don't cry. I've got you."

His arms wrap around your middle, and he presses his face into your shoulder, sniffling and sobbing into your shirt.

"I'm sorry Gavin, I'm so fucking sorry! I hate myself for pulling this shit with you but I can't fucking stop!"

You shush him, pressing kisses into his hair and rubbing his back. As much as it hurts to see him with Lindsay, it breaks your heart even more to see him like this.

"Michael, it's alright." You lift your hand and touch his chin, tilting his head up so that you can look him in the eye. "It's alright."

Without warning, Michael's hands are in your hair, gripping tight and pulling you down for a kiss. His lips are pressed hard against yours, desperately moving and begging to feel you, and against your better judgement you give in and kiss him back. You can't resist him. You don't want to, either.

He whimpers when you fit your lips between his, his mouth opening right away for you as you glide your tongue across it. The taste of the cigarette is still fresh, and it mixes with the taste of Michael that you love so much, that you can't ever get enough of. You hold him close to you, close enough so that your chests touch and your legs almost get tangled up. Your heart and body are on fire, a slow burn that leaves you tingling and wanting more, wanting to feel closer, wanting to never let go of him.

Michael pulls away, and you try to chase him, but he stops you.

"Hey," he pants, breathless from the kiss. "Let's get out of here for a while."

You're more than happy to oblige.


	3. Set Alight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The rating has officially gone up. Enjoy the porn.

Michael tosses you his keys and tells you to drive, because he wants to keep his hands free. From the way he's shaking, you wouldn't really trust him to drive anyway.

You hop into the drivers seat of his car, the one he and Lindsay share, the one filled with all her things. You always feel bad whenever you're with Michael surrounded by memories of her, pangs of guilt hitting you in the stomach. But just like every other time, you push those feelings away, and focus only on Michael.

"Where are we going?" you ask as you push the key into the ignition and start the car.

"Just drive."

So you do. You drive to nowhere in particular for ten minutes before you realize why he wanted to keep his hands free, and then you drive some more.

His hands wander over your legs, fingers tickling your knees and up your thighs, settling on your crotch. He leans over the gear shift to kiss you, featherlight touches of his lips against your cheek, your neck, everywhere he can reach. You can hear his breathing pick up, your own pulse starting to pound in your ears. You want him so bad.

"Pull over," he says, and without thinking you turn onto a deserted backroad, parking on the shoulder and turning to him without even bothering to turn off the car.

His hands go right to your hair, pulling you to him and kissing you hard. You don't take it slow, neither of you want to, and you slide your tongue into his mouth right away, making him keen. He pushes you back, reluctant to break the kiss and speaking against your lips.

"I need you now. Back seat."

Awkwardly, he shimmies over the gear shift and flops into the back of the car, landing on his back. He tugs on your shirt, and it takes some maneuvering, but he manages to pull you on top of him.

It's cramped, uncomfortable, and you have to keep one foot on the floor to keep from toppling over. There's no one on this road, there never is, but the sunlight shining in through the windows makes you feel exposed. You almost feel like this is a bad idea, like you should call it off and take it somewhere else or just go back to the office, but then he wraps his legs around your waist and you forget all your inhibitions.

He grinds his groin into yours, sending sparks up and down your spine and making you grunt as you press back against him. Through lidded eyes, you can see his face, bright red and bearing an expression that's dripping with lust. His lips are parted and he's already panting, you haven't even done anything yet but he's already so needy, and you can feel him getting hard in his pants.

You need him.

You dip down, attaching your lips to his neck and sucking, nibbling gently and lapping at the spot you're sure will bruise.

"No marks!" he whines, which only makes you bite down even harder, making him shriek.

"She already knows, what's one more hickey gonna hurt?"

He tenses up, nervous, but as you work the sensitive skin with your mouth, he relaxes and lets it happen. You take it as a good sign, a point in your favor, that maybe since he's letting you do this it means he's leaning towards picking you. The thought alone eggs you on, makes you want to ravage him even more.

Grabby fingers grasp the hem of your shirt, and you sit up just a bit so Michael can pull it off you, then get to work on yanking his over his head and toss both of them into the front. You lean back in, mouthing down his neck and chest until you find a nipple and flick it with your tongue. With a whimper, he threads his fingers in your hair and pushes on your head, begging for more. You wrap your lips around the bud, lapping at it, and arches into you and rolls his hips against yours.

"Gavin, please, I'm so fucking horny, please just take off my fucking pants and stop being a tease."

"Nah," you say, inching your way up his body and straddling his chest. "Not yet. Get me out first."

He wastes no time complying, sitting up and quickly snapping open your pants. He reaches into your boxers and pulls out your half erect cock, pulling back your foreskin and stroking you a few times to get you fully hard, the sensations sending tingles through you.

"Mm, Michael," you moan. His tongue pokes out and laps at you, dipping into your slit as your head lolls back. "Feels so good, c'mon, give me more..."

He ignores your request, continuing to gingerly lick at the head of your dick. He's teasing you, getting back at you for doing it to him, and he looks up at you with faux-innocent eyes that make your heart swell and your dick throb.

You grab his hair and tug his head back, then lay back down on top of him, popping open the button of his pants and tugging them down. His dick is hard, almost purple in color and pulsing, desperate for attention. You don't give it to him right away, though, instead reaching around him and squeezing the meat of his ass.

"Oh God, Gavin, fuck me!"

"No time. Gotta make this quick."

Michael whines at you, giving you puppy dog eyes, but the look is wiped off his face once you get your hand around his dick. You fit yours against it, holding them together in your palm, and roll your hips. Both of your cocks are slick with precum, and they glide together perfectly, creating just the right amount of friction to make you groan.

"Fuck, Gavin," Michael moans as his eyes roll back. You pick up speed, setting a rhythm as you thrust against him, and his nails dig into your arched back and scratch at you, leaving angry red marks that sting so nice.

Everything is affecting you. The sound of his voice, the smell of his skin, the feel of his body, it's all working together to set each of your nerves alight. Heat swirls throughout you, settling in your belly and making your muscles feel strung tight. You lean down, latching your lips onto the lobe of his ear, then whisper to him.

"Michael, fuck, I'm close..."

"M-me too, I'm really close, I'm gonna come, oh fuck _Gavin!_ "

You feel him twitch under you and he keens in your ear, signaling that he's at the edge. You pull back to watch him as he orgasms, the beautiful expression on his face, the way his stomach tightens up while it gets splashed with his cum. You work your hand fast and with a tight grip, coming shortly after with a grunt of his name and spurting your own ejaculate onto him.

Before you come down from your high, you lean in and lick his oversensitive body, cleaning up all the cum with your tongue. You don't swallow right away, giving him a kiss before you do, prying his mouth open and sharing the taste with him. He moans into your mouth, loving it and wrapping his arms around you, holding you tight against him.

The two of you just lay there for a while, you're not sure how long, just basking in the afterglow of sex. You run your hands through his hair, he rubs your back in slow strokes, both of you listening to each others breathing with closed eyes. For a second, you actually convince yourself that this is it, he's finally yours and you can have him like this forever. Then he speaks and ruins the illusion.

"We should get back."

You stay still for a moment. You think about saying no, but you remember that you did skip out on work to do this. You ran away after his fiancee told everyone that they were officially getting married, and then you disappeared with him and gave him a big hickey. There's no way to hide what happened. Everyone is going to know what went on while you were gone. The thought makes your stomach churn.

Eventually, you sit up, grabbing the shirts from the front seat and combing your fingers through your hair, accepting your fate.

"Yeah, let's get back."


End file.
